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[For The Sonny Sooth.]
John Mitoliel, the Irish Patriot.
BY O. A. LOCHRANE.
The death of John Mitchel at Dromalane pro
duced a deeper and wider expanse of popular
manhood of the people. This was his course,
and once entered upon, he knew no returning
tide. When Mitchell moved, it was forward,
and when he spoke, it was to utter his enter
tained opinions. He never wrote or spoke a sen
timent which breathed compromise with his ene
mies; and when he stated, at the Music Hall in
San Francisco, “As for me, I have not come
here to whine about my own suffering: in the
sympathy than did the death of an ex-emperor j worst and blackest of my dungeons, my enemies
a short period before at Chiselhurst; and yet never extorted from me one word of submission,”
the one was crowned amid the gold and glitter I * ie expressed what all felt was true, and strong
as the heart which had suffered in the cause of
of courts, while the other was flung as a felon
from his native land out into the wilds of Tas
manian forests.
f In John Mitchel’s career we find no triumph
ant successes, and yet his death
has excited the sympathy of conti
nents; wherever we turn, the tide
of homage swells up, and eulogies
and exclamations of love mark the
scenes, as they distinguish the
efforts.
In early life, his history w r as
marked by no promise of extra
ordinary power; but from the pa
rental roof at Dnngiven he glided
along into boyhood, and into col
lege, and into his profession of
law, without any romance of an
ticipatory distinction. Nursed in
the north of Ireland, the genius
of the man could not have been
enriched by any historic glow of
patriotism,as the scenery of Derry,
like its people, was little calcu
lated to develop any wild or flash
ing inspiration; but Mr. Mitchel,
at the age of thirty, exhibited, in
his earnest devotion to the cause
of Irish nationality, a strength of
purpose and fixity of opinion
which soon placed him in the
vacant chair of Davis, and demon
strated the intense sentiment of
hostility he cherished to all mean
ingless resolutions and driftless
reaching after possibilities.
Mr. Mitchel was gifted with no
cants or hypocrisies, and scorned
to live in mists and wait opportu
nities, talking without resolution
and moving about in a labyrinth
where there was perpetual motion,
but no advance. To his mind, ora
tory was babble except it meant
something to fire the heart and
kindle the enthusiasm of the peo
ple. The “Conciliation Hall”
movement soon began to tumble
in popular esteem, and repeal
rents dissolved, and the people
followed the pillar of fire which
at last lit up the hopes, if it did
not guide the steps of the patri
ots. In the advance went John
Mitchel, carrying the flag of defi
ance and covered with insignias
of popular devotion. He dis
trusted the Whigs, and would
wait no longer for their promises.
“There has been,” said he, “no
lack of patience and quietness,—
far too much patience and quiet
ness— unchristian, inhuman pa
tience and quietness. ” The rest
lessness of the people soon began
to sympathize with the demand
for accomplishment, and nothing
had been done. O’Connell had
taught the masses “that liberty is
not worth a drop of blood,” and
made this a test declaration—“re
pudiating, disclaiming, denounc
ing and abhorring the use of phys
ical force under any possible cir
cumstance.” This doctrine was
odious to John Mitchel, and he
met it with the following dis
claimer: “ My father, sir, was a
United Irishman of ’98—thought
liberty worth some blood-letting;
and although they failed, it were
rather hard that one of their sons
would now be thought unworthy
to unite in a peaceful struggle for
the independence of his country
unless he will proclaim that he
abhors the memory of his own *
father.” The issue may be easily '
foreseen. But in the new depart- *~
ure from “Conciliation Hall,” in
which the young Ireland element
all united and embracing the men
who filled the page of 1848, Sir
William Smith O'Brien had not
realized the utter hopelessness of waiting on the
union of classes, and therefore proposed, by a
resolution, what was virtually only over again
the test declaration. The resolution read: “That
a society be now formed, under the title of the
Irish Confederation, for the purpose of protect
ing our national interests and obtaining the leg
islative independence of Ireland by the force of
opinion, by the combination of all classes of
Irishmen, and the exercise of all the political,
social and moral influences within our reach.”
After three nights’ discussion, the resolution
was adotped, and Mr. Mitchel felt that under
a new organization the old system of “agitation”
was to be revived. It was a new issue of speech
making and resolutions, and some more idle
promises from the Whigs of ameliorative legis
lation; and against all such Mitch el’s exclama
tion was, “Good Lord, deliver us.” He strug
gled to excite a healthier public sentiment, and
to drown out and stamp out of existence all
place-begging, and let the leaders lay down a
platform upon which the Confederation could
stand united. The leaders desired a platform
where they still hoped the clergy, the middle
classes and the aristocracy could unite with the
Confederation. Mitchel despaired and followed
up his blows dealt in the columns of the Ration
by still bolder and braver ones through the col
umns of the United Irishman.
These repeated appeals to the masses led to a
special act to crush out the effort; and John
Mitchel knowing the end—for he meant revolu
tion and not resolution met the provisions of
the bill bravely and like a man. He was taken
from his dinner-table to Newgate, and went
through the form of a trial with a packed jury—
was convicted, sentenced and transported: and
leaving his property confiscated, his family at
Robert Holmes’, the brother-in-law of Robert
Emmet, Mitchel was carried from Ireland on his
way to Australian forests. The drift of national
affairs soon carried his friends through the same
processes to the same destiny.
In looking over this short history, the mind is
struck with one overwhelming conviction—that
John Mitchel was in earnest. -Men may differ
with his policy, but with his fidelity, no man
hesitates the homage of his confidence. Mitchel
Ireland; for he never, in all his long, clouded,
troubled life, did an act for his friends to forget
or his enemies to criticise. In his works, and
which show the highest type of intellectual
color and shape his pictures of men and things;
and in sadness, when sentiment was necessary,
his words dripped with tears.
John Mitchel was in his companionship the
very soul of friendship, and men loved him with
the tenderness of pride. He was so gentle, so
well-bred, so considerate in the smallest courte
sies, so truthful, so honest, so unselfish, so com
panionable. The writer can never forget a week
spent with him at his home, when the outside
world was clad in green and sprinkled with
flowers: we were poring over the pages of books
he had marked in his exile, and discussing the
columns of the Ration newspaper. What a
wealth of thought he poured out! How Irish
history became alive with interest, and how
many life-like portraits he painted of his con-
ship, as it walked the waves up to the Irish
shore, had a prouder step on board and a more
royal heart than visited the country in a cen
tury. We can see the vessel dashing through
the”waters and see the proud, inflexible, intre- i
pid patriot as he strains his eyes to catch the |
glory that for him hangs like a halo around the
Irish coast. We can almost feel the rush of
as you represent yourself to be could have failed
to capture Miss Josephine or some other woman’s
girl, we can't understand. You must be mortal
ugly, but that, we believe, is no objection with
the girls. Y’our reputation must be bad, and
exceedingly bad, for it is said to be one of the
easiest things in the world to get married. Even
an ordinary fellow finds but little trouble, and
hopes as they troop by to reach the land before from your account of yourself, you are quite an
’ --- — J — J -*■ extraordinary one, for you can cook, wash, and
darn, and it is a pity you can’t milk. Add that
to your other accomplishments, and you will
certainly succeed. Look after your character
and build it up, and you will not have to wait
another five years before some clever female
will inform you that she is ready to fix up the
vouchers.
him. We can understand the strange light
which circles his brow and shines out on the
land he loves as he steps once more upon his
native soil; not as Meagher predicted in 1848,
“the citizen of a free State,” but as member
elect for the county of Tipperary. And then
from the arms of victory Fame furls the banner,
and John Mitchel looked on the rising sun to
“I HAVE MADE NO ?EACE WITH ENGLAND —John Mitchel.
merit,-in his speeches, and they all burn with
the fire of genius and patriotism,—in his jour
nalistic career, and he edited several papers,—
throughout all, the spirit of John Mitchell lives
and breathes, and stamps them all with fidelity
to the cause he espoused, and brilliancy and
power in the manner of the espousal. It will be
said that he made mistakes—that he was impet
uous—that he did not count cost, and that his
devotion to Ireland was the romance of a lover,
rather than the loyalty of a subject. Whatever
may be said of successes, in things of ordinary
effort—in matters of devotion to principle, and
in struggles for national causes, and in sacrifices
for personal independence, successes are not
always tests: sometimes the dash of troops saves
battles, though the fiery spirit that led may go
down—and John Mitchel was of the stuff you
make martyrs.
About five feet eleven inches in height, with
slender frame, eyes peculiarly winning, and
black, wavy hair, John Mitchell could have met
scaffolds or'a dungeon for principle; and it was
this courage, soul-truth and earnestness of the
man that has made him so dear to the Irish
people.
He loved society and could appreciate wit and
humor, though seldom indulging in anecdote.
His laugh rung out silvery and pleasant and his
conversation literally sparkled with thoughts,
and was inlaid with information. His criticisms
were generous except when cant came in the
way, and then his tongue, like his pen, would
come down like a lash. He loved music and
the society of ladies, and would listen to Irish
melodies until his eyes would fill with memo
ries. He was hospitable and unsparing in his
courtesies and attentions to his friends, and con
fiding, as his stream of talk would take in all
subjects, social and intellectual. He was no
lover of money, for his heart seemed to dwell
on one idol.
He was passionately fond of John Martin and
T. F. Meagher, and always laudatory when allu
ding to O'Brien. Differing from Meagher in the
Confederate struggle, he never criticised his
motives or indulged it in others.
As an orator, Mr. Mitchel was not in the first
rank; and yet his diction was pure, the flow of
was never a place-beggar. When he thanked the his language rapid, his illustrations copious and
men of Tipperary on his re-election, he illus- | classical, his arguments clear and deduced from
i temporaries! With what keenness and deli-
| cacy he drew’ the curtain aside, and presented
j the images in his ow’n mind which had been
; sleeping since his residence in Tennessee, and
j with w’hat glow of glory he W’ould flash up when
j the future of Ireland became the theme! The
| pale face would then lighten and the eye sparkle
I and the voice grow eloquent, while his slender
fingers would twist the wavy lock of hair which
I fell down upon his forehead. And then the
charm of his household w’as so perfect in its con
fidences and hopes,—his wife still fresh and
graceful, with eyes gazing into his, and listening
to our talk about places and people near her
home in the county of Arnagh: his sons just
verging from teens to twenties; his daughters,
Henrietta, Minne and Isabella, all were young
and lovely and beloved. Alas ! when I recall
his letter to me from Richmond, in which he
speaks of the loss of his youngest son at Gettys
burg, of his daughter Henrietta in France, and
of the sadness settling over the fortunes of the
Confederacy, the cloud seems to come between
the eye and the paper.
The last time the writer met Mr. Mitchel was
in New’ York. We went to the Astor House and
talked of the-South. He was true to every turn
of Southern interests, and his invective on Gen
eral Dix was dashed with the vitriol of exple
tives and expressions only he could use. His
imprisonment after the warwas unprovoked and
unmanly. He stood with the section of his
adoption and for principles of self-government
to which he had given his sons arid devoted his
own energies, and in his feebleness of frame and
brokenness of spirit, he never forgot or forgave
the outrage.
He did not speak of revisiting Ireland, but
talked freely of American politics and politicians.
He feared the future of republican institutions
on this continent, but said smilingly, that at
least the example of our prosperity would sow a
crop of j-oung republics in Europe; that the
Miss L. J. (Columbus) asks:
“Is it right for a young lady at
balls or dancing parties to engage
herself five, six or eight sets
ahead ?” . . . We do not think
it is, for in that way she runs the
risk of giving offense by forget
ting the engagements. It is
troublesome to keep memoran
dums, and besides, she may de
prive herself of the pleasure of
dancing with some favored friend
who has had no opportunity of
making an engagement. 'The
girls should decline making any
engagement beyond one quad
rille. The young men should
not expect them to do otherwise.
J. W. C. (Cuthbert) says: “I
am in love with the prettiest lit
tle girl in Cuthbert. I love her
devotedly, but she does not care
so much about me. I have just
started to farming, and you know
a wife is the thing a man needs.
Please, now, allow one of your
“school-boys” to make one re
quest through The Sunny South ;
that is this: I want to know what
I must do to iiqjke her love me.
I don’t drink nor chew tobacco,
and I am not the prettiest boy
you ever heard of; I am only
“passable,” as the girls say.”
A straight-forward, upright,
manly course on the part of a
young man will win the respect
of both men and women. After
you have w’on her esteem by your
correct deportment, it will not
be difficult to win her esteem.
Make a successful farmer and
good citizen, and the girls will
not slight you, whether you be
good-looking or not.
A Subscriber (Prattsburg) says:
“As you are a good gramarian, I
write to ask you what is the plu
ral of Taylor’s goose The
plural of goose is geese, no mat
ter whether it be a tailor’s or a
farmer’s goose. And by the by,
unless you learn to spell better,
you will be put among the geese
yourself. You spell and write
tailor as though you referred to
some man by that name.
V. Y. (Kentucky) says: “I am
a w’idower with four children.
Am proprietor of a school, and
have fallen in love (the usual
fate of mafl) with one of the
teachers, who has been here for
nine years. Would you advise
me to marry her?” . . . Wid
owers with children have the
strongest reasons for marrying,
but they should be exceedingly
cautious in their selection, for
the interest and happiness of
their children as well as their
own are at stake. But a “teach
er,” it strikes us, would be a
good selection. She has of course
studied the nature and charac
teristics of children, and would
no doubt make your little ones
an excellent step-mother.
Sandy (Georgia) says: “lam a
young man in the prime of life,
twenty-eight years of age. I
formed the acquaintance of a
nice young lady in Georgia
three years ago, and have cor
responded with her ever since:
Have been engaged to her for
two years, but have never mar-
ried because I was poor. Now,
she is perfectly willing to be
fall asleep before the clouds were crimsoned j come my wife, poor as I am. I have her
with its departing fire. But it is in Ireland—
Irish hearts are around him; it is in Irish earth
he sleeps, and the dews trickling from the stars
will drip through the green sods that clasp him
to weep upon his ashes.
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
Alice B. (New’nan) asks: “Who is the author
of‘Home, Sweet Home?’ In addressing a let
ter to Washington City, you always put D. C. at
the bottom of the address. What does D. C.
stand for? Where can I find these lines,—
‘Though Lost to Sight, to Memory Dear?’ . . .
John Howard Paine is the reputed author of
“Home, Sweet Home.” D. C. stands for the
District of Columbia. You should refresh your
self in geography.
Edna (Madison) says: “I have been corres
ponding with a young gentleman for some time.
We have written to each other most every week
since our correspondence first commenced.
We are only friends—not a word of love has ever
passed between us. Now, what I want is this:
I wish to Break off' the correspondence, but do
not want to offend the young man (we have
always been good friends, and I wish our friend
ship to continue). Now, will you please tell me
Id what way I can break it off without offense.”
Write less often, and let the correspondence cool
off gradually. Once a week is too often to write
to keep up any interest.
“White Rose-Bud,”Madison, Ga.—“Suppose
three girls—for instance, Cleopatra, Ophelia and
Juliet—were to send a gentleman a valentine, and
he, during a visit to their city, should show it
to numerous acquaintances, have they any true
cause to be angry? Please reply early, as we
parents’ consent. Please inform me what course
to pursue. I love the young lady devotedly,
and am perfectly willing to do anything honor
able for her sake. Must I marry her and work
for property, or work for property and then
marry ? By answering you will confer a great
favor on yours, etc.” ... If you have firmly
settled upon some honorable vocation and made
up your mind to succeed and have a home or
comfortable place to put a wife, it might be well
enough to take her in at once. She might he a
great help to you in achieving success. But if
you have nothing—no money, no home of your
own, no occupation, we say, by all means let the
girl stay with her father and mother. It is a
burning ontrage fora young man who has no
means and no occupation to deceive a worthy
girl from her comfortable home and subject her
to poverty, drudgery, and consequent neglect.
If he is honest, industrious and determined to
work, it is a different matter, whether he has
any money or not.
Ten Good Hints.
^ - . - . in Xiurcpe, uihl me ( are j n „ rea ^ sus p e nse, and let us know your
seed had been planted, “ God only knows who opinion b of the fellow.” . . . None whatever.
trated his sentiments when he said: “As long as
I have the honor to represent you, I will not sell
yon. I will not be found haunting the doors of
ministers to get little offices and little places for
my constituents or any relations of my constitu
ents.” This, in a word, contained the elements
of his political creed—ask no favors and insist
on right. Trained as a lawyer, he knew that
revolutions in the order of law must be failures.
The law of the Union was of force. To move
within it, was to give up the struggle; to move
within it, to repeal it, was a delusion: to move
ithout it, to force the elements to grant it, re
quired bold, manly effort and an appeal to the
his propositions. He would hurl word after
word when bitterness of invective to his ene
mies aroused him: but he lacked the fervency
and fluency of deliver}-, and the effort of thought
seemed to repress the tide of speech.
As a writer, he was overwhelming and fascina
ting. He carried the reader on from the first
sentence to the close: there was no stopping-
place. How beautifully and gracefully he could
invoke the poetry of expression when he in
dulged in description, and how strong and
heavy the words came together when he was
raising his composition for his climax! With
what magic word-painting he could throw into
may harvest,” etc.
In his reference to Georgia, he knew all the
leading men, and General Toombs was his favor
ite. There was something about the chivalry
and brilliancy of the one which largely attracted
the other. To Colonel Whitttle, of Macon, he
was specially complimentary, and spoke of Gen
eral Gordon warmly, and of his son having acted
on his staff.
He made no allusion to a trip over to Ireland,
and he looked too feeble to make the inquiry,
and the writer did not contemplate, with all the
fire he knew burned in the brain and heart of
John Mitchel, that he would cross the ocean, a
solitary invader, to defy Great Britain. But he
went, and found the welcome to which his sac
rifices for Ireland entitled him: and his coun
trymen rejoice that he was honored by a seat in
Parliament, and that he died in the land he died
for. It was a glorious end to a life that rose so
craped and clouded with disappointments. The
opinion
Valentines are not binding documents; but sim
ply pleasant reminders, and the parties sending
them are presumed to be unknown. It is best
always to keep the one receiving a valentine in
suspense and doubt as to the sender. The fel
low is not to be blamed for showing it, because j
no responsible name is attached.
F. O. (Monroe) says: “I have been trying to i
marry for the past five years, but Miss Josephine
nor nobody else’s girls won’t have me, and I
can't tell why. I am twenty-two years of age;
have two good eyes and am full grown to my age. j
Am not proud, but look as pretty as I can. I
I am perfectly sound, have good health and lit
tle money, but can cook, wash, and dam socks,
The following pithy code of newspaper by-laws
is the best we have ever seen:
1. Be brief; this is the age of telegrams and
short hand.
2. Be pointed; don’t write all around a sub
ject without hitting it.
3. State facts; don’t stop to moralize — it’s
drowsy business; let the reader do his own
dreaming.
4. Eschew prefaces; plunge at once into your
subject, like a swimmer in cold water.
5. If you have written a sentence that you
think particularly fine, draw your pen through
it; a pet child is always the worst in the family.
6. Condense; make sure you really have an
idea, and then record it in the shortest possible
terms.
.7 When your article is complete, strike out
nine-tenths of the adjectives; the English is a
strong language, but won’t bear too much “re
ducing.”
8. Avoid high-flown language; never use stilts
when legs will do as well.
9. Make your sentences short; every period is
a mile-stone, at which the reader may halt and
rest himself.
10. Write legibly.
Sound Advice.—Let the winds and the waves
of adversity blow and dash around you, if they
will; but keep on the path of rectitude, and you
will be as firm as a rock. Plant yourself upon
principle, and bid defiance to misfortune. If
gossip with her poisoned tongue meddles with
but can’t chum nor milk. I have a year’s rations I your good name, heed her not. Carry yourself
on hand for two; and if any lady thinks the j erect; let your course be straightforward, and
above will suit her, let her bring her recommen- j bv the serenity of your eouritenance and purity
dation fixed up in good style with proper vouch- . of life, give the lie to all who would underrate
ers. Apply at once.” . . . How such a “catch” , and belittle you,